


The Unraveling of Cecil Palmer

by thenerdqueen



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Depictions aren't that graphic, I Tried, M/M, Re-Education, but better safe then sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdqueen/pseuds/thenerdqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil never remembers when he goes in for re-education. He never thinks of the horrible things they do to him- except in his nightmares. That's the way they like it. They count on that. But this time, they don't count on Carlos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unraveling of Cecil Palmer

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing an angst fic so I really hope you guys like it. I'm really working on using more descriptive language but I don't know how well that worked for this.

Day One; Hour 10

"Oh dear, Mr. Palmer, seems you've got a bit of blood on your face," The Man Who is Not Short chuckles. He knows Cecil Palmer can't hear him.

"How much did you give him?" The Man Who is Not Tall asks.

"Enough for a couple hours. We just need to be barely out the door when he wakes up. I want him to see us just before it's too late." Slowly, the Man Who is Not Short walks around the cold slab of metal Cecil's body lies on. It's shirtless and lifeless, but not quite as cold as the table beneath it. The Voice of Night Vale's body is covered in wires and sweat, if his eyes could open, one would only see gray where violet usually shines.

"Should we begin to clear the room?" the Man Who is Not Tall asks. The Man Who is Not Short thinks for a moment.

"Yes. But, leave one of the whips bloody. I want to watch him locate it when he wakes up." The two of them make work for themselves by cleaning long metal probes and dusting the machines Cecil's wires attach to. The room is kept clean when it's not in use, but when a... Student of the re-education program is in, they prefer to leave it a little grimy for show.

"Please, switch on the monitor now," the Man Who is Not Short says. The Man Who is Not Tall complies, he turns on a large monitor that hangs directly above Mr. Palmer's face.  A blue glow casts over him. He looks so much smaller in this room. So weak and needy while covered in blood and sweat.

After clearing the room of all the gases, the men remove their masks and make their way to the door. They hear a loud moan from the cold slab of metal and slip out the door, only to turn on a computer monitor on the other side. So they can watch the agony the man on the table is about to endure.

Day One; Hour 15

The images flash on the screen so quickly. He hardly recognizes one before the next is up, but they're the same again and again. False memories meant to delete the ones he's told he shouldn't have. He knows what will happen next too. They're linking his memories with fear so he'll block them out. He always knows this when he's in this room, but when he leaves he can't remember.  He hears screams. Loud screams of his name. He tries to distract himself while he still can control his own thoughts but he quickly begins to wonder how they got the screams. First, Janice's small voice crying out for her Uncle Cecil. Then, Carlos sounding like he's in great pain gasping for his boyfriend to save him. Even Old Woman Josie calling for help; all on loop as the images flash and he struggles against the bands that keep him against the table.

He can feel the blood caked on his abdomen. He knows it'll scar again, just like last time and all the times before. He feels like he's drowning in the screams and the flashing lights. He knows he can't hold it together much longer. Soon the lights go out, or maybe he does.

Day Two; Hour 28

"Are you sure he's out?" The Man Who is Not Tall asks nervously.

“Of course he is. He never lasts this long with the gas. We can go in soon for the injections,” The Man Who is Not Short answers. The Man Who is Not Tall grabs a wooden box from the table behind their chairs. The Man Who is Not Short continues to stare at the monitor in front of him. He’s searching for any signs of movement from the blond man on the metal table in the other room. The two agents pull on their gas masks and slip back into the hazy chamber. The Man Who is Not Tall carries the box in. He sets it on a tray near the table their subject lies on. The Man Who is not short opens the box and pulls out a vial of liquid with a long needle attached. He smiles to himself and stalks over to Mr. Palmer. He punctures the delicate skin of Cecil’s neck with the tip of the needle and expertly presses the plunger down, filling the unconscious man’s veins with the liquid.

“This should induce the nightmares. If not, we’ll start again with the electric shocks. Usually he sleeps through this, he has more trouble dealing with it after he gets out,” he explains. The Man Who is Not Tall nods along. “We have to be real careful with this part. If he starts to scream we’ll have to put him out again. City Council doesn’t want his voice damaged. ‘Far too precious,’ ‘Wouldn’t be able to go on without it,’” he mocks. The Man Who is Not Tall chuckles nervously. He has never heard anyone openly laugh at the City Council.

Day Two; Hour 29

Cecil knows he’s trapped in his own mind. He knows what he sees isn’t real. The man in front of him is not Carlos. It’s only a projection of a possible, but improbable reality in which a large monster consumes the only person he has left to love.

He knows he’s trapped in his own mind. He thinks what he sees isn’t real. The young girl in front of him is not his niece. The woman next to her is not his sister pulling her away from him. The  man behind him is not his brother-in-law laughing.

He believes he’s trapped in his mind. He isn’t sure what’s real anymore. Dana does not have such deep wounds covering her. She does not have blood streaking her face. Does she?

Who is the man on the table? Is what he sees real? Who are the people in front of him? They’re calling his name he thinks, but it sounds unfamiliar. It’s sounds like it’s been said so many times it seems made up.

Whoever he is, he is afraid. He thinks it is all real. The room is dark and a black screen hangs above him. He is lying on a table. It’s cold where he hasn’t been laying. There are straps hanging loosely off the table, so he sits up. There’s a large machine with wires hanging off it just a few feet away. He wonders where his shirt is and where he is. Why is it so dark?

“Oh dear, Mr. Palmer, seems you’ve awoken,” The Man Who is not Short says. He knows the other man can hear him, but Mr. Palmer doesn’t answer. He wears a gray suit with a black tie. His glasses are dark even though the room is too. The lights flick on and another man in a matching suit and sunglasses walks over. He offers a smile to the man sitting on the table.

The shirtless man is confused and cold. He thinks he wants to know what has happened, but he also thinks he doesn’t. He would like to be warmer, and then to know who he is. He wants to know why there are scars on him. He tries to speak but no sound comes out. He shakes his head slightly. The two men hand him a piece of bread and set some water on the table where he has drawn his knees to his chest protectively. He stares at the opposite wall silently.

“How are you feeling?” The Man Who is Not Short asks. No answer. “Well, let us know when you’d like to talk.” They walk out, leaving him to his thoughts. How long has he been asleep? What happened to him? Is this some kind of hospital? Slowly he rises to his feet. He is slow and unsteady, but he makes it to the door. He knocks softly and waits for one of the men to answer. They don’t for what feels like a very long time.

“Are you ready to speak with us, Mr. Palmer,” the Man Who is Not Tall asks. The other man nods and the two suited men return to the damp room. “How are you feeling?”

It takes a moment to illicit a response. Finally he speaks up. “Confused.”

“Well, we found you in a great state of panic a few days ago. We brought you here so you could get better. Don’t worry, we’ve alerted everyone you know that you’re alright.”

“But… who do I know? Who am I?”

“Your name is Cecil Palmer. You live here in Night Vale. Don’t worry, it’ll all come back to you soon.”

Day Three; Hour 75

 ****  
They were right. It all came back to him eventually. Although, most memories were fuzzy and he felt as though he was missing many details, he knew who he was. Cecil Gershwin Palmer. A man of average looks and good standing in his community. He was the radio personality of their local station. His niece, Janice, is a Girl Scout. Carlos the Scientist is his boyfriend of course! Cecil was excited to re-enter his life. The two nice men in the matching suits and sunglasses led him outside and waved him off, wishing him well. They smiled to genuinely; Cecil would never think of what they had done to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I certainly hope you liked this chapter. Let me know if you did. Or if you didn't. Thanks for reading! ~Q


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